


leave your lover (leave him for me)

by emilyrambles



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Princess Mechanic, also clarke and lincoln have an awkward interaction, this prompt has been sitting in my inbox for a while and i finally found some time to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 19:45:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5639671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilyrambles/pseuds/emilyrambles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Head over heart has never really worked for Clarke.</p><p>Or the one where Clarke seeing a picture of Raven on social media is the final straw and she feels incredibly, hopelessly in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	leave your lover (leave him for me)

**Author's Note:**

> anonymous said: clarke and raven “i know we were never officially together or anything but seeing that picture you posted on [insert social media] with him/her literally felt like you carved my heart out of my chest and stomped on it and i’m not really sure why i’m leaving this voicemail but my pillow still smells like you and i miss your stupid face” AU but with clarke being the one calling raven?please?

She slams her apartment door shut and briefly considers saying screw it and sleeping on her couch tonight because she does not have the energy to make it to her bedroom. The thought of warm bed sheets and the prospect of lumpy couch cushions giving her back ache in the morning however, makes her reconsider and she dumps her rucksack by the door and makes her way to her room. She doesn't even bother taking her shoes off before collapsing onto her bed and burying her face in her sheets. She twists her head and her gaze rests on the looming pile of textbooks and scrap pieces of paper where she scribbles her revision notes piled one on top of the other on her desk. A wave of tiredness washes over her and she decides school can wait, just for one night. She deserves it.

She doesn’t deserve what happens next.

Her phones buzzes in her pocket and she groans. She fumbles for the device and immediately turns the brightness down as her tired eyes strain under the bright light. She swipes unlock, trying her passcode two times before eventually getting it right.

 **Octavia <3:** _like my new Instagram pic xxx_

 **Clarke Kent:** _why_

 **Octavia <3:** _what’s wrong?xxx_

Clarke sighs at the fact that even though it’s over text, Octavia can read her like a book. Fair enough, whenever Octavia asks Clarke to like a picture on one of her social media’s, Clarke does it no questions asked, but she’s not really thinking clearly and she can feel the beginning of a headache. She’s really not in the mood to explain her feelings to her best friend right now, because she just got back from a sixteen hour shift at the hospital and if she tells Octavia what else has been building up inside her for the past month she thinks Octavia will just say I told you so and make the situation ten times worse. Besides, Clarke’s not ready to admit it yet. To anyone else that is. She realised a long time ago she can’t hide it from herself anymore.

 **Clarke Kent:** _nothing, sorry im just tired, I’ll do it now xxx_

 **Octavia <3:** _love you xxx_

She opens up the Instagram app and clicks on Octavia’s profile. The most recent picture is of her and Lincoln smiling, cheeks touching, as they sit in the bleachers at some baseball game. They look extremely cute and she smiles briefly; her best friend deserves someone good and reliable like Lincoln. Clarke notices the picture is on thirty-one likes already and there’s really no need for another person to like it but Octavia has this thing about not leaving her pictures on odd numbers and so Clarke clicks the heart. She shuffles further up her bed to get comfier and slides her shoes off. They hit the floor with a soft thump and she rests her head on her pillow.

It still smells of her.

_Fuck._

She tries to take her mind off the thought because she cannot deal with that right now and _oh god_ the tears are starting to prick at her eyes and she gulps loudly. The feeling settles like a paperweight between her ribs and this really can’t be happening again.

But it is and Clarke considers calling Octavia and telling her the whole truth and nothing but the truth and let herself be prosecuted by her friend until she’s ready to confess to her crime and suffer the consequences.

At least if she goes to metaphorical jail the odds of seeing _her_ again become a lot less.

(She can’t go two days without cracking and calling her, so that would never happen. As much as her brain wants her to, for her own sanity, her heart wins out every time.)

She really needs to reconsider her head-over-heart mantra because that’s clearly not working.

Clarke grabs her pyjama top from under her pillow and wipes her eyes with it quickly. God this is pathetic.

Her phone screen goes dim and she realises she still has the app open. She touches it and the screen lights back up. Clicking on her feed, she starts scrolling, hoping to keep herself from pining. She likes a picture of Bellamy and his adorable new puppy, and comments on a snap of Monty’s dessert (a freshly-baked cheesecake) asking him to save her some, even though she knows he’s probably already set out a spare slice for her. A message suddenly pings through.

 **Monty:** _there’s a slice chilling for u in the fridge. at least this gives u an excuse to visit._

Ouch. She deserves that one though, she’s barely seen any of her friends in the past couple of months, blaming it on being too busy with work and school. The only person she’s seen regularly (apart from she-who-must-not-be-named) is Octavia, and Lincoln that one time he was dragged along with Octavia and he accidentally opened the bathroom door whilst she was stripping for a shower. Octavia didn’t stop laughing for a solid five minutes, much to an embarrassed Clarke and a disgruntled, apologetic Lincoln. If she takes that into consideration, her friends have definitely seen more of her than she would’ve liked.

She keeps scrolling and almost falls asleep from pure exhaustion when it happens.

Holy shit.

It’s not fair.

The picture is from a ‘ **rreyes’** and the caption underneath it reads ‘ _missed this one! cant wait to see him later **@finnnn** #tbt #datenights #excited’_

The image itself is what tips her over the edge.

Raven is pressed tight against Finn’s chest whilst his arms wrap around her, pulling her in close. He’s staring at something off camera, but Raven’s smile is what makes the entire picture. She looks so vibrant and radiant and happy, Clarke’s chest bursts with emotion and the tears fall from her cheeks.

So this is what it feels like to be in love.

To want something so badly it hurts your body to move and it makes your heart ache with jealousy and anger and sadness all at once. As a med student, she should say it’s impossible to die of heartbreak, but right now she thinks she’s about to become a medical miracle.

It’s completely selfish of her and it’s completely like her and unlike her at the same time. All her life, Clarke’s put others first: Octavia comes first in their friendship, her mom came first when her dad died and she had to help her recover before she could even begin healing herself. The whole reason she’s putting herself through the hell of med school is so she can help others. She’s never wanted anything for herself so badly as she does Raven and it’s so completely selfish. She wonders whether Finn wants her like that. Whether she could even compete with him. In fact, she shouldn’t even be thinking about competing with Finn because Raven is not a prize; she’s a star that shines so brightly on her own that anyone else in her life can’t help but be drawn to her.

The picture is dated to three hours ago and she wonders whether they’re still together now. Before her head catches up with what her hands and fingers are doing, she closes the app and clicks dial on Raven’s number.

Head over heart. Bullshit.

It’s on the fourth dial tone she begins to think this is a massive, _colossal_ mistake but now she needs to think of an excuse in case Raven picks up. She actually considers throwing her phone at the wall and saying it was just a butt-dial, but suddenly Raven’s voicemail picks up. They’re obviously still together. The thought makes her heart pound just that little bit harder.

“Hey Raven it’s me. Although you probably saw that from my caller ID this is stupid I’m really sorry fuck and now I’m rambling and I don’t really know what this phone call is except I miss you and your voice and your stupid jokes and your stupid face I mean it’s a nice face- attractive even- and my pillow still smells of you and I can’t find your hoodie I’m really sorry I think I left it at work and I’m too tired to go back and get it I’ll buy you a new one and you can wear it and then lend it me again fuck what am I even doing…” she sighs and stares at the patterns on her ceiling, “… anyways you’re probably with Finn right now and-” her phone bleeps and the voicemail cuts her off.

Well that could have been worse. At least she didn’t accidentally declare her love for Raven. She can’t really put that past her though, and so she turns her phone completely off and slides it onto her bedside table. It doesn’t take long for her eyes to close and her breathing to steady out as she quickly falls asleep.

“Clarke?” it seems like only two minutes later a voice is calling out to her and something’s gently shaking her leg. She mumbles something incoherent which she thinks is an attempt to say fuck off and let me sleep but there’s a laugh and it acts as a stimulant shooting through her bloodstream.

_Raven._

“What are you doing here?” she mumbles and sits up, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

Raven coughs awkwardly and holds up her phone.

_Oh shit._

“You left me a… message… and I couldn’t reach you.”

“Sorry I turned my phone off so I could sleep.” Clarke rushes and reaches for her phone, holding the power button until the logo appears. Raven is staring at her every move and she wonders now whether it’s possible to die of second-hand embarrassment because she’s never regretted something more in her entire life. She’d take Lincoln seeing her naked again if it meant she could take the voicemail back.

“If you could just forget that ever happened I’d be extremely grateful.” she mumbles and Raven narrows her eyes. Then Clarke notices something is wrong. Raven’s not smiling at her like she usually does and there’s a suspicious red colour around her eyes. Almost like…

“Raven, have you been crying?” Clarke sits up completely straight now and Raven gives her a small smile.

“He was cheating on me.” the sentence hangs heavy in the air and Clarke’s eyes widen.

“What? Who?”

“The President of the United States, what do you mean who?” Raven jokes, but there’s real pain behind her eyes and Clarke grasps her hand.

“What happened?”

“I was so excited to see him again. I even posted an Instagram pic of us-” Clarke swallows nervously at that, “and I decided to surprise him at his apartment early. Walked in on some chick sitting on top of him right in the middle of the dining room floor.”

“Holy fuck Raven. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, I mean at least it freed up my evening right?”

“Will you be okay?” Clarke asks and Raven nods but she’s not going to be okay right now and Clarke knows that. She grabs Raven’s arms and pulls her in for a tight hug. Raven exhales a shaky breath against her, and Clarke then lies them both down on her bed, Raven’s head burrows against her neck and she wraps an arm around Clarke’s stomach.

“He’s a dickhead and he doesn’t deserve you.” she whispers and Raven hums.

“Can I stay here with you tonight?”

“Of course.” Clarke replies.

She may be in love with Raven but it can wait. Right now, Raven needs her.

Besides. They’ve got plenty of time.


End file.
